Your ever present journalist, Marcella Gibbon, live at the
biggest celebrity event of all!
All of
us clearly remember the events of just a few weeks ago, with Yeshua coming from
the heavens with an amazing array of white-robed, delicious young men coming to
take over Jerusalem . How your reporter would have loved to take
one of them home! After this, Yeshua
called together his own special form of government made of powerful
anthropomorphic beings appeared almost out of nowhere. They have amazing abilities, such as to
transport to a distant place in an instant, through walls or mountains. But their most powerful feature is the peace
and gentleness they constantly have no matter what faces them. The official statement is that these
magnificent but strange beings are special people from the human past, but it
is rumored that they are actually aliens from a distant star.
But none of this means anything,
for tonight we are to part-eh! Now that
he has solidified his power over the Middle East region, Yeshua has called all
of the movers and shakers of the whole world to join him in a celebration of
the new world order! And what an array
of celebrities we have tonight! I stand
beside the red carpet glorying in the magnificence of the bright lights before
us!
Oh, look, there’s Jenny Carmichael,
star of the new hit show, The West Hills in a daring new outfit! A long silver dress with a slit that goes all
the way up, and I do mean all! I hope
she’s wearing some kind of body suit beneath that, for I understand our new
ruler is a bit of a prude! There she
goes, smiling all the way! How proud all
of our best and brightest must be tonight!
To meet the new, popular king in their own private audience! Fantastic!
Oh, my there is General Wainright,
all decked out with every medal he ever earned on his chest! Age does not eliminate grandeur, does
it? His steps are powerful, taking his
time walking down the carpet. He waves
at the crowds, slowly and—look, is that a grin on his face? One for the record books! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that
before! The great hero and political
leader of Asia , smiling!
And here is the most famous of all,
the rock god—no offense intended Yeshua!—Alexx!
Listen to the girls scream!
Seeing him almost makes me want to scream, as well! But he just wears his sunglasses and quickly
rushes into the stadium. What a
disappointment!
Look at the magnificent spectacle
before us now! Archbishop Tenelon, the
famous living saint of Tunisia ,
who completely transformed the political landscape, making it safe for
democracy! How wonderful he is in his
tall, golden hat and his white robes all lined with red stitching!
Well, we should go in, because I
understand the ceremony has just begun.
It is time for Yeshua’s big speech.
Let’s sneak in and see if we can get a peak…. I’m whispering because I want to creep past
the guards without them seeing… Oh, too late!
Hello there! Yes, I’m Marcella
Gibbon and I’m the reporter for Daytime, the most watched morning show… what? Yes?
Oh, fans, it looks like the voice of your reporter has reached the
highest, after all! Not only are we
welcome, but it looks like we are on the list!
Well, I truly am blushing! Sir,
please, allow Rob in, too. He’s my
cameraman and my access to the global audience.
Can’t he come in… oh, he’s checking.
This is just so exciting… Oh, yes!
Wonderful! Come in, dear viewers,
and let’s see what kind of a seat we can get.
Yes, let’s stand over to the
side. We aren’t breaking any fire codes
are we? No? Oh, this place is set aside for us? Wonderful!
We are the only reporters allowed in tonight! Take that, Mike! Now let’s hear what Yeshua is saying…look at
him! Isn’t he marvelous? Such simple elegance! A basic white robe, down to his feet, a long
white beard—it just makes me want to put my fingers through it! Of course, I woudn’t. Oh, yes, I will hush for a moment…
“…our new ministers of State. These are the newly resurrected men and
women, some from the ancient past, some from the recent past. But I would like to call attention to these hundred
that stand before you. These are but a
representative of the literally millions that recently lived in your
nations. Allow me to introduce some of
them.
Now one of the crowd who stands
behind Yeshua with a neatly trimmed beard and thinning hair step forward
in—dare I say it—rather shabby fatigues.
“First is Byron, who, until a few
years ago lived in the Western United States ,
homeless on the street. Perhaps few of
you recognize him, but he was featured in the past as a menace in Seattle for proclaiming
the downfall of those who killed the innocent.
He heard my voice, dared to declare aloud the wrongs of that nation and
the visiting dignitaries. Although he
provided an important, but dissenting, political voice, did any of you—in
either the conservative or liberal sides of the debates that raged in almost
all nations provide him a place to stay for one night? Or even a meal? I know many of you saw him and those who saw
him noticed him, for he has a powerful voice.
But did any of you support him?
To support him would be to support me, for he represented me while I was
absent.
“Second is Melinda.”
A woman in a plain dress steps
forward. She has brown, mousey hair, and
a sad smile. She almost seems familiar…
Oh, Melinda Gravitas, formerly of our competitor… she really isn’t the same without
her makeup, is she?
“She also spoke on television
against the sanctions and killings that were happening during the previous
regime. How many of you offered her
shelter after she was fired? Did any of
you seek help even for her children?
Perhaps you feared the regime and the time when you would stand with
her, locked in the ‘secret’ concentration camps? The refuge centers that you all knew about,
but dared not to speak of? She was
publicly hanged, but not before her fifteen year old daughter was raped before
her eyes and her son castrated before his throat was slit. You knew her.
Some of you knew her fate. But
who of you, all of whom had the public eye, would speak a word in her
defense? How many of you would even
visit her? She was there for me. She represented me.
“Now, Bobby.
Oh, Bobby…. You are still
alive. I didn’t think I’d ever see you
again.
“Bobby was well known among
you. He was an acoustic folk singer,
although little of his earning he kept for himself. He lived on a trailer among the poor in Africa , but he never spoke of this fact. The only time you saw him was in his
concerts. He spoke of the poor and
preached the need to be right with God.
When he spoke of a woman, begging in the streets with her sick newborn
babe, he spoke out of his own experience.
He granted her shelter on her own and gave food to her, allowing her boy
to live. He saved many of his neighbors,
and a few who were willing to live with him in his poor conditions, he flew
from India , China , the streets of England
and Mexico . They built a community of love and
restoration there.
I remember Bobby. I met him in his penultimate concert
tour. His music was heavenly, but not
passive. It was powerful. He spoke to me about…me. He didn’t talk about his tour or his
work. He wanted to know about me, about
my life, and my longings. I laughed him
off. It wasn’t appropriate. We were in an interview, and he was
too—personal. But I never forgot
him. I wept when…
“Eventually, the false Democratic
Republic of God attacked his village and kidnapped him. He wrote to many of you, pleading for help.
…I received his letter. I couldn’t believe it was happening to him. I had heard no official reports. I checked with the police and they said not to say a word. That it was better not to…
“Many of you were told not to
negotiate with terrorists. But the
authorities did nothing to help him, either, because the Democratic Republic of
God was in the pay of the largest nations in the world, to do their work in Africa . To keep it
poor and hopeless. To focus the
attention of the do-gooders in the world away from their own streets. So the farthing granted to the poor would
never go to the needy in front of you.
Did any of you assist Bobby? I
think you know the answer to that. He
was beheaded when the three weeks of ransom were up.
“Why are you all here? Because for all of your stances about
justice, for all your liberal platforms, for all your charity organizations,
for all of your benefit concerts and your budget lines for the poor, you never
brought justice to the people before you.
These hundred, as I said, represent literally millions. The people who lived on the street you never
took in. The starving beggars you passed
without dropping even a coin. The
innocent that were killed for your political agenda. For every person you saw before you and never
offered an ounce of help.
“I am Al-mashiach, the anointed
one. I am the final ruler, and the only
one who truly will work for the needy, the persecuted and poor. I have been hungry, and lived among the
hurting and oppressed. You leaders who
have ruled—you have failed the majority of your citizens. This is due to you having lived only among
the powerful. Perhaps some of you lived
in your childhood amidst the needy. But
as soon as you tented with the important and wealthy, you took up their cause
and stood for the powerful You failed
the ones who depended on you most. Now I
will truly stand for them, and the oppressed will take over the governments.
“You, on the other hand, are
condemned. I send you all to the outer
darkness, for eternity. Should any of
you wish to appeal this decision, I will meet with you personally. But, apart from that, goodbye. I will never see you again.”
Your reporter stands, stunned with all
of the leaders of the nations around us at the message they just received. At the far end of the hall, masses are
exiting, each of them receiving a mark on their cheek. It doesn’t look like much, just a black mark
from a grease pencil. I can hear a few
protesting, but most just move along the lines like cattle.
This is a shame to have all these
world leaders fail in the very thing they were claiming to uphold. It is terrible to have to see this, but your
reporter must admit that there is some justice to these charges,
although….Excuse me? Sir, what are you
doing?
“Marcella, please move along. We have many people to process and exile…”
I’m just a reporter, sir. I don’t belong with these others.
“I hate to contradict you, ma’am,
but you are on the list.”
Ridiculous! There must be a mistake! I demand to see your superior!
“You wish to make an appeal?”
If that’s what you call it, then
yes.
“Come this way, then”— (cut)—
This is Marcella Gibbon, still with
you. What a relief! Due to a mix up in paperwork, your reporter
was almost sent to hell for all eternity!
Now, we sit, awaiting the Great One, Yeshua, so we can fix this. Happily, he allowed my cameraman to remain with
me, so we can all see firsthand what this so called justice really looks like
from the inside.
While we wait, allow your reporter
to make a few personal comments. I must
admit, that this situation angers your reporter greatly. This is similar to the Nazi regime. They will send these poor folks, who knew no
better, doing just what they were told, to a place of torture. Actually, this is worse than the Nazis, for
out of the millions they killed, they only tortured a few. But this man with his “loving God” behind him
is going to torture every single one for all eternity. Why does he do this? Is God, ultimately a torturer? Choosing a few who must kowtow at his feet,
while the rest who were only keeping the world system running, must be deformed
without the relief of death in sight? What
a horror this has all turned out to be. As you know, your reporter is not often about
the unfortunate, wishing to focus on the happier side of life, but for once I
think I must speak out!
Oh, wait, I hear the door opening…
"Yeshua! I am so glad you were willing to see me! My viewers want to know…"
“Marcella, I am glad to speak with
you. What is your concern with my
judgment?"
"I am sure that it is all a simple
mistake. I was here to report on the
proceedings, and your guards began to push me out with the others, but I am
only an observer…"
“Yudah, do you have Marcella’s file
with you? Fine, thank you. Give me a moment here…”
Now that true justice is here, I am
sure that your reporter will be let go…
“Well, it all seems in order, here,
Marcella. You are supposed to be exiled
with the rest.”
What, but I don’t understand…
“It’s very simple, Marcella. You are a world leader, just like all the
rest. You had the public eye for
ages. And yet you did nothing to assist
the needy or oppressed, despite your frequent association with them. You ignored Bobby’s letter for instance…”
Just as I was told to!
“And would you excuse anyone else
who had the means to help the innocent but refused to because they were told
to? What about your trip to Calcutta or
Brazillia? Didn’t you see hundreds of
the millions in poverty there?”
I didn’t really notice…
“Marcella, it’s all in your
record. We have you on record speaking
to your boyfriend, Glen about how sorry you felt for them, but that there was
nothing you could do.”
That was a private conversation…
“Nothing was ever private,
Marcella. Everything you’ve ever done
was recorded.”
Wait, what about my private times
with Glen, and Tony…
“Nothing was ever hidden. And trust me, we have seen it all time and
time again. Nothing you did was
surprising or unusual. The point is that
you, as a world leader, chose not to help those in front of you. Perhaps you gave a hundred or so to charity
out of social pressure, but you never really helped anyone. Not with your life. Yet you were responsible to.”
But I was not! It was my task, as a reporter, to remain
objective. To keep my perspective even
for the sake of my viewers!
“Marcella, there is no such thing
as objectivity. When a poor child holds
his hand before you, begging for a coin, there is no such thing as an objective
position. You could interview him, have
pity on him, even pray for him. But if
you have a load of money in your pocket and refuse to give him any kind of
help, then you are not objective. You
are greedy and selfish.”
But who knows who that money would
go to?
“Then you could have taken him into
your home and off the street. I know
it’s all complicated. Love is always
complicated. And it’s not easy to make
the right choice. But you spent your
life avoiding right choices. Or any
choices. And so you chose evil, by
choosing nothing.”
"Well, Yeshua. This is terribly judging. I thought you were supposed to be about
forgiving, not judging."
“I am not about my own
judgment. But this is God’s
judgment. Neither he nor I can abide
with those who have been apathetic to the needy to be in our Kingdom. We are all about justice, and the just are
what make up justice.”
"So you condemn us to torture? I can’t abide heat! My makeup can’t handle it! And I burn easy!"
“Of course you are concerned about
that. Well, you are still alive, so
there is a possibility you might avoid that.
For now, we are sending you out, never to return.”
"Out where?"
“Everyone is so concerned about God
being a torturer. My loving Father
tortures no one. That’s not the
issue. The important thing is that the
Kingdom be a land of and for the just.
Those who have assisted the poor and oppressed, and who have honored the
Father by doing this, they will be welcome into the Kingdom. This is heaven, living in a place where all
the gentle, the helpful, the loving people dwell. There will be no poverty here, and everyone
will be kind to each other because that’s the sort of person who lives
here. And the oppressed but kind are
resurrected and will rule, both because they deserve it from what they have
suffered and because they have been proven worthy. They know how to deal with oppression.”
"But how can what you do to the rest
be considered kind or just?"
“Frankly, Marcella, hell is not
fire. The torture you receive is not
from demons. Rather, hell is living in a
place where every miserable, greedy, selfish, judgmental, proud,
self-righteous, hypocritical, lying, fearful, hateful person lives. Sarte was correct when he said “Hell is other
people.” Hell is living with the people
who think that they are more important than love. Hell is living with people who take more than
they give.
“And what makes hell particularly
hellish is that fact that there is no redemption there. For now, the peacemakers, the merciful live
throughout the world. But they are
beginning to all be drawn to the Kingdom.
Some will still wish to live among the hateful, because their compassion
is that great, but for the most part, all the nations but the Kingdom will be
without them. Yes, there will be
civilization—you will continue to have your entertainments and your
governments, but it will be civilization based only upon greed and
judgment. Only the selfish, not the
merciful. Only the hurting, not the
healing. Only the hateful, not the
loving. This is true misery.” (cut tape)
Your faithful reporter, Marcella
Gibbon now stands outside the hall of Yeshua.
And why, although raked over the coals by Yeshua himself, is your
reporter so happy? Because she has it on
direct authority that it is not the end of the world! Yes, your reporter is judged, but not
down. We will be reporting for years to
come, with all the impartiality and hard work you’ve come to expect. Although she has received a permanent ban
from the Kingdom, there is still the rest of the world to look into. And frankly, it seems as if it is outside the
Kingdom that the real excitement exists!
Until next time, ta ta!
